Take off the veil

For two years after her marriage came to an abrupt end, communicating with her ex was akin to pulling out a set of teeth with a chisel and hammer. It was extremely painful.

The brother simply couldn’t come to terms with the fact that their marriage was over and the fact that she (being the woman) initiated the termination clause didn’t help matters as it made him feel somewhat emasculated.

There was no tool of public humiliation and character assassination that he didn’t employ and deploy in those two years. You think you have seen the worst of your spouse until you choose to leave them. A lot of people do not handle rejection very well and she understood why – no one likes to be ‘the left.’

Nonetheless, they had to communicate somehow because of the kids, and every single attempt ended up in piles and piles of vitriol.

This moment it’s murder and suicide threats and the next pleas it is “I love you and why would you do this to me’’ from his lips. An emotional roller-coaster it was to be honest.

She had made efforts in preparation for this eventuality, by reading up on the traumatic effects of separation/divorce and the emotional intelligence that should follow.

But nothing, I mean, absolutely nothing prepared her for the real deal. When the die is cast, it could very well be the bumpiest ride of your life.

It took about two and half years and a truckload of patience and forgiveness, before they could carry on a civil conversation devoid of attacks and hate speech.

She had always said to him that they could make a clean slice of their marital and parenting roles. Just because marriage didn’t work didn’t mean parenting shouldn’t.

They could totally drop the titles of husband & wife and perfectly slay in their titles of mother and father. They owed it to their kids to give them the softest landing possible in the circumstances and this desperately hinged on the existence of a civil relationship between them.

As much as it broke her heart to see the kids suffer as a result of their inability to communicate within that period, she understood that her decision to end things was an informed one and so there was no going back.

He took his time, but they finally made it. They were able to talk on the phone, no fights, no curses. Chats, messages and even visits though on a need to have basis became so much easier.

In tune with their new found “friendship” he asked to come into town to see her sometime and she obliged him.

It was a week day and so she got dressed and set for work but chose to stop at his hotel first thing that morning. She was inquisitive as to what he wanted to talk about and suspense had never been her strong suit.

Behold, almost three years down the line after a seven-year marriage and after heaps of fights and vitriol spewed all over the place amongst themselves, friends and family, the topic yet again was how they could get back together.

He went on his knees, held on to her waist as she sat on his hotel room bed and began his narrative, pleas, suggestions and promises.

She immediately felt exhausted. She really thought they were passed this, but clearly she thought wrong.

This time she decided (for a change) to pay rapt and objective attention to all of his reasons why they should attempt a welcome back to a dead marriage. And all she heard coming through were sentiments, more sentiments and cheap sentiments.

If she hadn’t learnt anything in the seven years of their marriage and the length of time they were apart, she definitely learnt that sentiments do not make a good relationship.

She waited till he was done with his speech and then put just one pertinent question across to him; “We were married for years and we had so many unresolved issues and painful memories, Why in God’s name would you want to go back to that torture?”

And his response which forms the crux of this piece completely blew her away. He said to her, “Those years you refer to were my best years yet. I was truly happy and I have spent every single moment we’ve been apart regretting being apart. Don’t you feel it too?”

In that moment, she felt the desperate need to respond as honestly as was humanly possible. She did say, “The years we were married were my worst years yet. I cried myself to sleep a lot, was heavily depressed and my health deteriorated speedily. Every single moment we have been apart I have spent thanking God that I made it out.”

If she had ever seen the poster look for devastation it was printed on his face instantly.

She felt so sad that her truth hurt him so bad, but it could not be helped.

Clearly they could not have been in the same marriage because their realities were worlds apart. Two people, same marriage but absolutely two different realities. It was shocking.

It was a testament to the fact that he had built the joy of his existence on the back of her misery.

But those days were gone. Those days when she was told that “he is happy” meant “they were happy.”

Those days when she perpetually sacrificed her own happiness for his, to the extent that she completely lost sight of the basis of her own happiness or the right to it all together.

She had learnt to stand in the truth of her own reality. No more denials, No more sugar-coating and no more faux smiles.

Even the saying “Happy wife — happy life” had begun to irk her anytime she heard it, because she had experienced that saying in the reverse and she knew first-hand that a person’s happiness was never a determinant/guarantee of yours.

Gently but firmly, she turned down his request. Without a doubt, she knew, that if he couldn’t stay married to the woman that she was then, the woman that she had become now was totally beyond his reach.

All that could be said had been said at this point, all that was left was for her to gently take his hands off her waist, rise and leave his hotel.

That she did gracefully, and as she shut the door the silence, that ensued was deafening. What is your reality in that relationship?

Do you know? Or are you too scared to lift the veil of denial and stand in your truth?

It really isn’t safe to hide behind the veil of another’s reality. You run the risk of self-annihilation. He wants it, but do you want it?

She likes it, but do you like it? It’s right for him, but is it right for you? She wants you, but do you want her?

I don’t know about you. But one thing I’m sure I want to be when I grow up is being “happy.”

UKUEKU-UDUAGHAN, a lawyer, sent in this piece from Lagos

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